


The Confluence of Picknickers

by luinel (geekns)



Series: Confluence [2]
Category: Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: F/M, Fluff and Humor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-09-04
Updated: 2010-09-04
Packaged: 2018-12-25 15:18:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,319
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12038646
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/geekns/pseuds/luinel
Summary: Fluffy one-shot sequel (parallel insert?) to Confluence of Fate. Eleven visits Donna and Rosie with the Ponds in tow. Time-tot/kid fic. This was written forBasmathgirl's birthdayin 2010!How time flies.





	The Confluence of Picknickers

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: The Doctor and Companions don't belong to me, we're just out for a bit of fun.
> 
> A/N: Set after "Amy's Choice" from the Doctor's perspective, a year after the wedding in "End of Time" part 2 from Donna's perspective.

Donna was kneeling on a blanket, unpacking lunch from some bags, and enjoying the warm sunlight.  Winter was letting go, the flowers were just starting to bloom, and it was the first warm day of the year.  She could hear the sound of children yelling and laughing because the playground was close by, Rosie getting some of her excessive energy out in a more constructive way than bouncing off the ceiling and driving Donna bonkers.  She was eleven or twelve now...strange, but she couldn't quite remember, but her mind was on other things.  Granddad's health was starting to be a little poorly at times, and she was starting to worry if there was some undiagnosed problem at the root of it.  But they were here to enjoy the sunshine and stay out of Shaun's hair for an afternoon.  
  
Shaun:  he was another problem, no doubt about it.  She had met him at the daycare she had used to take Rosie to.  Rosie had loved going to see him every day, she had said that he was funny...which was really Rosie laughing at the ludicrous things he said and did to make the kids laugh, and still did.  But Rosie had outgrown Shaun.  She had recently told Donna that just because she had liked the man who had cared for her while her mum was at work didn't mean that she had wanted him as her Dad.  So Rosie avoided her step-father, and refused to call him Dad, and had taken to locking herself into her room.  She was a voracious reader, and had given her teachers such a hard time (they never had the answers to her questions, or--at least--she seemed to question the voracity of their answers) that Donna had been forced to start teaching her at home.  Rose tore through the material at such a pace that this fall they were going to start on high school level Maths and Sciences.  Donna was going to have to hire a tutor, she had never done well when it came to such subjects.  She had loathed studying, she wondered where Rosie had picked up such a passion for it.  Maybe WIlf had inspired her to reach for the stars.  
  
Shaun, for his part, no longer even attempted to find work, not while they were living so comfortably off their lottery winnings.  He was doing some sort of research online, going on about Rosie or some such.  She never could pay attention long enough to understand what he was on about when he started talking about his project, but he was pretty desperate about it.  She supposed that he just wanted to get Rosie to like him, but she wasn't sure there was call for so much passion about it.  Just this morning he had told her...  that Rose wasn't going to be a little girl much longer.  Well, Donna supposed that it was true, Rose was on the verge of teenagehood.  She supposed that they wouldn't be coming to this playground much longer.  
  
Donna noticed that there was a weird grinding noise coming from somewhere across the park.  It sounded like someone was having a hard time changing gears, maybe, or starting their car.  She wasn't sure, she didn't know anything about mechanical things, but Granddad kept her car purring, so she supposed that she didn't need to worry.  The sun went behind a cloud for a moment, and a shudder went down her spine.  She stood, suddenly, scanning the children who were playing, looking for her daughter.  She wasn't there.  
  
"Rose?" she called, trying to stifle the panic that was building within her.  Maybe she had gone to the loo.  Maybe she was sitting beneath the slide, out of view, reading a book that she had somehow stuffed into one of her pockets (she had the tendency to do that:  the girl somehow managed to fit the oddest things in her pockets).  But something in Donna was far more desperate.  This felt familiar, as Rosie wandered off often (whenever anything curious or odd caught her fancy), but this felt more dire somehow.  It had never happened at a park before, but somehow this felt like deja vu, like it  _had_ happened before, with life threatening consequences.  She dashed forward, calling her daughter's name again, weaving through children and playground equipment, was dismayed to find an abandoned book where she had guessed that Rosie might have been hiding.  
  
She scanned the playground equipment again, but all of the children were much younger than her daughter.  Her panic built even more, threatened to overwhelm her.  "ROSE!!!" she screamed.  
  
"Does this girl belong to you?" a voice asked from behind her.  She turned to find a young man standing before her.  He was wearing a tweed jacket, and a bow tie, and his dark hair was in a stylish disarray.  Behind him, Rose was talking to a ginger girl who appeared to be twice her age, chatting animatedly as they strolled from the direction of the bathrooms.  
  
"Thank God," she breathed, dashing forward to reunite with her daughter, nearly knocking her over as she fell upon her in a tight embrace.  
  
"Mum..." Rose squirmed, clearly embarrassed that her mother was acting in such an overprotective way.  
  
"What have I told you about talking to strangers?!?" Donna demanded, smoothing her daughter's hair.  Her short red curls had a tendency to fly every which way ever since she had cut her hair off herself, not a month ago.  Donna had been incensed, her beautiful hair all gone, without permission of course.  Rosie didn't ask permission for much, she just assumed and went ahead and did whatever she wanted.  
  
"But he's not a stranger, Mum," Rose assured her.  "He's friends with Granddad."  
  
"So I am," the young professor-looking man said with apparent glee.  "How is Wilf, the old lad?"  
  
"He been a bit under the weather," Donna admitted, this man's casual demeanor throwing her.  "Who did you say you were again?"  
  
"I didn't," he grinned disarmingly.  He held a hand out to her:  "Joh..." he hesitated.  "James Smith," he quickly amended.  
  
"Known as 'the Jaw' by his friends," the redhead threw in.  Her arms were crossed, and she looked amused at Mr. Smith's discomfort.  If that was, indeed, his name, Donna felt dubious on that point, though she did suppose that the nickname was apt.  "I'm Amy, this is Rory."  Donna hadn't noticed the other young man until this moment.  
  
"Hi!" he exclaimed softly, waving a bit awkwardly.  He was wearing a puffer vest.  For some reason, she was distinctly reminded of  _Back to the Future_ , she had no idea why, as he looked nothing like Michael J. Fox.  He reminded her of someone else, she couldn't quite place who.  Oh, that's right...  
  
"My Granddad knows a John Smith, I met him once, but I don't remember him ever mentioning a James."  
  
"That's my brother," Smith interjected.  He looked nothing like the John Smith that Donna remembered.  She stared at him, trying to catch one glimpse of his features, but other than the height...  Not that she could rightly remember what John Smith looked like, the harder she thought about it the less sure she was about him.  But he was different, she knew that.  
  
"Doctor," the girl--Amy--whined.  "Aren't you going to introduce us.?"  
  
"Pond..." he intoned, sounding a little exasperated.  "This is Donna Noble."  
  
"Donna," Amy responded, sizing her up.  "And just how do you know Donna, Doctor?"  
  
"I'll explain later..." Smith responded, looking a little flustered.  "Maybe we should go."  
  
"No!" Rose exclaimed.  She fidgeted when everyone stared at her.  She looked up at Smith imploringly.  "Can't you stay for a little bit?"  
  
"That depends on what your mother says," Smith looked to Donna, which of course meant Rory and Amy did as well.  
  
"Care to share our picnic?"  
  
  
  
Donna was starting to put away the food, and surreptitiously watching Smith, Rory, and Rosie as they kicked around a ball.  Smith seemed to be especially talented when it came to dribbling, but occasionally let Rosie steal it away from him.  He wasn't as kind to Rory.  
  
"He can't take his eyes off her," Amy said, tilting her head back and looking at the sky.  Her short skirt and high healed boots were football prohibitive.  Donna hoped that Rose didn't get any fashion ideas from this girl.  
  
"Pardon?" Donna asked, sliding the banana bread in next to the thermos that had held hot chocolate, not so long ago.  
  
"The Doctor, seems to like Rose," she reiterated.  "What's her father like?"  
  
"What, I don't...?"  Donna sat back, pondering this.  "I don't remember."  She tried not to think about the past decade too much, it gave her a headache.  "We were engaged, and he got killed on our wedding day, and I have amnesia, I don't remember exactly how it happened."  
  
"Really?" Amy asked.  "How mysterious."  Donna looked at Amy, really looked at her, for the first time.  She was fidgety, and flouncy, and seemed to get bored easily.  She wondered what these three people were doing together, if they were related, or friends, or coworkers.  They all seemed quite different from one another.  Rory seemed smitten with Amy, but she seemed more enthralled with Smith.  It was a strange trio, but then:  Granddad was always drawn to the unusual, wasn't he?  
  
"He stares at you, too," Amy observed.  Donna's eyes lifted, and she realized that Smith was watching her.  He was laughing, presumably at Rory, who had slipped and fallen in the grass, but he was watching her as he helped him back up.  She blushed, and resumed packing, taking one last biscuit out of the Tupperware before she would seal it and tucked it away.  She offered one to Amy, as well.  
  
Amy was staring at her now, as she took the biscuit, and lifted it to her mouth.  Donna had baked them the night before.  "You really don't know, do you?" Amy noted.  
  
"What?" Donna asked, surprised.  
  
"Hogging the biscuits, Pond?"  Smith was suddenly standing before her, not even winded or rumpled, even though they'd been playing for more than half an hour.  Rose dashed up and collapsed on the blanket, giggling.  Donna wondered if she ought to look into some athletic activities for her, if she would enjoy playing football this fall.  Everyone sat in silence for a few moments, and then he spoke again:  "This has been lovely, but I'm afraid we really must be going."  
  
Rose didn't object this time, but she snagged her book out of Donna's purse and pretended to read it.  "See you around, mini-Noble."  Rose didn't say anything, but made a humming sound in the back of her throat.  Smith gazed at her for a long moment, then turned to Donna.  "Thank you for the lunch."  
  
"You're welcome," Donna smiled, resisting the urge to squirm under the intensity of his gaze.  He snagged his jacket off the blanket and headed back the way they'd come.  Amy shot her an apologetic look, and smiled slightly:  
  
"Sorry," she turned to go, taking Rory's hand, and jogged to catch up with Smith.  " _Now_  can we go to Rio?" Donna could hear her asking.  She turned to Rose:  
  
"Time to go, love."  Rosie closed her book and sat up.  She never used a bookmark, but never seemed to lose her place, either.  Donna wondered how she's given birth to such an intelligent child.  She suddenly felt the need to cuddle her baby, kiss her on the head, but Rose didn't like it when she displayed her affections in public places, it embarrassed her.  Donna wondered how her daughter had grown up so quickly, it seemed like it had only been yesterday that her daughter had been a little girl, barely old enough to walk.  She couldn't help it, she took Rose's hand as they walked to the car.  
  
She pondered how Rose had gone missing, how desperate she had been to find her.  There are some things that she just couldn't get her daughter to understand, no matter how hard she tried.  It seemed wrong to scold her now, it was as if her daughter didn't even know how much she had worried her, and the fear had been a little irrational, now that she thought about it.  There hadn't been any suspicious men hanging around (other than Smith and his little entourage), there had been several mothers also watching their children.  And Rosie was getting big, before she knew it her daughter would be interested in boys and going out with friends (assuming that she made any, Rose had always kept to herself, in a way, not that she had trouble talking to adults or anyone else, she just didn't seem to be on the same wavelength as her peers).  
  
Donna wondered about Smith again.  "How do you know Mr. Smith?  Where did you meet him?"  
  
"I met him at your wedding to Shaun," Rose replied.  
  
"Granddad invited him?" Donna asked, surprised.  She hadn't remembered seeing him at the wedding, but a few of Wilf's friends had been there.  "How did you happen to bump into him today?"  
  
"I didn't," she dipped her hand in her pocket, and pulled out a key on a chain.  "I just knew," Rose answered as she put the necklace in her mother's hand.  Donna stopped, and stared at the key.  It felt warm in her hand, and familiar.  She vaguely remembered her daughter finding it in her nightstand drawer once and asking if she could have it.  Donna couldn't remember where it had come from.  Her head throbbed for a moment, aching, and she shoved the key into her pocket, not wanting to look at it anymore.  She had so many unanswered questions...  
  
Rose squeezed her hand, holding onto her tighter.  "I love you, Mum."  
  
"I love you, too, Sweetie," Donna breathed.  "I love you, too."


End file.
